


Checkmate

by Robin_Mask



Category: Death Note
Genre: Arguing, Drama, Friendship, Games, Gen, No Sex, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3225161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Mask/pseuds/Robin_Mask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matsuda finds it interesting to observe L and Light, especially to see which will win . . . </p><p>One-Shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eternity Locket](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Eternity+Locket).



# Checkmate

_‘Ryuzaki, that’s not how we play!’_

Light folded his arms across his chest. It was almost amusing to watch, because it was easy to forget that he was – by far – the youngest member of the team. There was very little reason to smile, however, because he was also one of the most intimidating members, and the way he sat made him seem an incredible combination of restraint and aggression. He crossed his legs at the knee and lent back in his chair, whilst his brown eyes remained locked upon L with a cold sort of patience. Did he ever act this way with his other friends?

There was a sound almost like as sigh from L, although it was so forced and affected that it was impossible to tell how he meant it to be intended. The slightly older man fidgeted his toes, which clung to the edge of the desk chair, and – considering how black the soles were – it was enough to make Matsuda give a mental note _not_ to sit there in the near future. He bit the skin on the edge of his thumb enough that it should have bled, whilst his dark eyes stared at the board between himself and Light. It was an old and frayed thing, barely balanced on the tiny table between them, and the contents would rattle each time they moved a piece, likely due to the chain that hung between them. It looked awkward.

 _‘It’s how I play,’_ said L.

_‘Yes, but you don’t make the rules.’_

_‘I don’t? I thought that the rules were arbitrary creations of society, created only to maintain a sense of order in a world saturated in chaos, due to a lack of something more substantial. If you think about it, a true leader would be able to direct society with a few simple rules . . . of course, one would need a godlike entity, would they not? The rules would need to be enforced, much like the commandments of old . . . who enforces the rules of this game?’_

_‘I would argue that rules aren’t simply made,’_ said Light, as he moved a black piece. _‘The rules we have are agreed upon by all parties; one must create a rule, one must obey it, and another must enforce it. In our case I think we_ both _agreed to play the right game.’_

_‘No, Light-kun decided I must use ‘king’ and not ‘check’. I did not. Who enforces this?’_

_‘We both enforce this. If we don’t agree, we don’t play.’_

_‘So how is it that Kira still plays?’_

Matsuda shuffled the papers on his desk. It was important to look like he was doing something, even if they officially had run out of any leads to chase, and he didn’t want to seem as if he were eavesdropping in any way. He knew that he held a reputation of being somewhat a burden, but the truth was simply that he had yet to be given a chance to prove himself to the group. He glanced briefly down at the papers and tried to feign some sort of interest, although they were mostly written in English and would need Light’s opinion.

The other two men sat across the room at a small table, which was taken up mostly by a computer that looked old enough to come from some ‘80’s sci-fi movie, but clearly it was important to L for some reason. He had continually yanked on Light’s chain – literally – until the younger man came over, but they did nothing other than to argue and point at the screen, until eventually they somehow came to the decision to play a game of draughts. They provided quite the distraction for Matsuda. They argued over the fact that there wasn’t enough room for the board, that L couldn’t place his sweets on the board to keep, and then that Light played by the wrong rules and should be made to jump pieces. It was chaos.

L currently appeared to pout. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, a testament to his lack of sleep, and he leaned his head upon his knees to stare at the board in a rather intent manner that showed he sought to plan several steps ahead. There was a sharp sweet smell from where he sat, but that was merely because the sweets had been placed on top of the computer where the heat caused them to grow incredibly hot, and L occasionally would send little looks across the board to Light that were hard to decipher. Light chose that moment to wave a hand across the board to signal his disapproval.

 _‘You can’t compare a badly played game of draughts to Kira,’_ said Light.

 _‘Why not?’_ L jumped Light’s pieces. _‘If we assume that your logic is correct, then there must be those who choose to enforce Kira’s rules in order for him to succeed, otherwise he would be unable to play . . . he would be caught or quit.’_

_‘Life isn’t a game, Ryuzaki! Kira makes his own rules, but –’_

_‘Just as Light-kun invents these rules?’_

Light reached across to jump three of L’s pieces. He slammed his round piece down so hard that the pieces rattled loudly, whilst he glared daggers into the older man, but it became difficult to tell just which one was the true victor. Matsuda could see the way that Light’s eyes narrowed dangerously, as well as how he jumped so easily, but L appeared so calm and held such a poker-face, plus he always seemed to have a back-up plan and contingency. The other thing was that there was no telling whether L _meant_ to sacrifice his pieces.

 _‘I did not_ invent _the rules of draughts,’_ snapped Light.

 _‘In some countries it is called ‘checkers’.’_ L smiled. _‘Checkmate.’_

The black-haired man jumped three pieces in turn, landing so as to be made king. A bright smile appeared on L’s face, which made him seem almost several years younger than Light, and it was so sweet that it felt a little saccharine. Matsuda saw that Light leaned back just slightly, enough that he practically sat upright by his usual standards, and he lightly placed his hands on his knees rather than clench them. He was amazingly childlike.

_'This isn't fair! You can't checkmate in draughts!'_

_‘I apologise. Is Light-kun angry? I recommend less caffeine.’_

_‘It isn’t the coffee that’s the problem! You accuse me of inventing rules, but you’re the one that’s making up his own rules as he goes along! It isn’t a matter of who obeys and who creates, because we’re both playing two different games!’_

_‘Yes, we are. I prefer my game. I do not think my opponent plays fair.’_

_‘Which opponent: Kira or myself?’_

_‘Checkmate.’_

There was another king. It shouldn’t have meant anything, but – the more that L misnamed the move – the more furious Light became. The capoeira that L knew was pretty impressive, enough that it left Matsuda tempted to ask him for lessons, but he _really_ didn’t want to see the two get into another fight. The look in Light’s eyes said that he was moments from throwing a punch or two, but it was that moment when Matsuda heard a noise coming from behind him. The lighting in the offices was awful, which forced him to turn.

Aizawa appeared in front of him, although he gave a dark look at the way Matsuda swung about in his chair and sheepishly scratched at his neck, and he eventually sighed and threw his briefcase onto the desk. The tray of coffee he placed carefully in front of Matsuda, before he began to remove his coat and drape it over his chair off to the side. It had clearly been raining. There was a smell of damp; speckles of rainwater fell onto Matsuda, as his co-worker went about getting himself settled, and the steam from the coffee cups must have looked so appealing to Aizawa in that moment. Matsuda didn’t envy him for the run.

“Hey, I got the coffee,” Aizawa said.

“Oh, thank you! I – er – thought you’d left for the evening.”

“What? No,” snapped Aizawa. “My wife and I – well . . . it’s not important. I shouldn’t be doing your job for you, but it was nice to get fresh air. I swear that if I hear Misa complain one more time -! I might just throw her in that room, lock the door and lose the key!”

“Well, you didn’t miss much,” muttered Matsuda. “L and Light are still playing.”

“There wasn’t any blood shed this time, was there?”

“Not yet, but they seem angry.”

Matsuda looked for the cup with his name. It felt hot to the touch, which grounded him and gave him something to focus on, and the steam was beautiful to watch as it rose and warmed his face. The smell was welcome and delicious to say the least, so that he sat for a moment and simply enjoyed the aroma and nothing else. Aizawa sat next to him and muttered that coffee was to be drunk and not watched, but he ignored his partner in order to enjoy it. He wondered whether Light would want any, before he heard the familiar voice of Ryuzaki:

_‘Light-kun does not need to play.’_

_‘What else am I supposed to do? You’ve handcuffed me and denied me my privacy! We’ve chased every lead, reviewed every video, but you_ still _won’t go to bed and I’m tired! It’s this or I fall asleep at my desk, but I can’t sleep like that!’_

_‘Light-kun could visit Misa. I would not be able to endure a long visit, but I would not deny my only friend a chance to visit his true love . . . unless you do not wish to visit Misa? I must say that it is surprising how many young women that you seem to have dated, despite showing very to little interest in the opposite sex . . . in fact, you seemed very indifferent to many adult materials in our surveillance. Is this why you do not visit Misa?’_

_‘Are you implying that I’m gay? I’m not gay, Ryuzaki!’_

_‘I did not imply. You inferred. How telling.’_

Light stood up so violently that the chain rattled and tugged on L’s arm. It caused the older man’s hand to flinch a little off his knee, before he pulled it back and looked at it with a rather alien stare. There was something oddly amusing about it; L looked as if his hand had betrayed him in some way, whilst he debated to himself how to remedy the situation. Matsuda smiled into his coffee and placed some paperwork onto his lap, so that – if anyone looked over – he could pretend not to be watching the pair.

There came a slap upon his head, which cause Matsuda to wince and look across to Aizawa, but his colleague simply held his sheaf of paper like a sword, before pointing to the work on their desk with a determined look. It was easy for him to judge, but Matsuda had been through the work so much that a break was well deserved. Watari had yet to make an appearance, which meant that he could already feel his stomach churning with hunger, and surprisingly L had yet to make a single complaint. Matsuda turned around, but angled himself to watch the two men. Light sat back down with a reluctant sigh and reached out to L.

_'Look, Rruzaki, I just -'_

“Hey, is that normal to do that?”

“Hmm? I hope you’re not expecting me to do your paperwork.”

“What? No! Look . . . _that_.”              

Light placed his hand on L’s, which meant that he was touching the older man’s knee and rested his thumb on his lower leg, and he pulled his chair close enough that his knees were touching the toes of L. The smile that he wore was gentle and reassuring, like so many that Matsuda saw in the past, and a part of him almost envied L, because it must have been nice to have a friend so close and so equal, but yet . . . it felt odd. It was such an intimate gesture, not to mention the way Light leaned in felt as if he were acting a part, and L clearly disliked the touch, but . . . L never let _anyone_ else touch him.

The tension to L’s shoulders was clear enough. It was then that his hand clenched at his knees, as the denim bunched and a slither of skin at the ankle was revealed, and his already pale skin seemed to whiten a few more shades. Light lowered his head slightly, before slowly pulling his hand away, although he let it linger just for a second, so that his fingertips held against the others leg. Matsuda would have thought it mean on anyone else, as if they lingered on purpose, but Light was generally so kind and sensitive . . .

“You don’t touch friends like that,” said Matsuda. “Do you?”

“I guess it depends on the friend,” said Aizawa with a sigh. “I can’t say that I’d ever feel comfortable touching another man’s knee, but I’m also not comfortable being the only one doing all this work. Get a move on, Matsuda!”

“I mean, it could be autism right? I read this article where people with –”

“We’re not doctors, Matsuda! Don’t diagnose people!”

“Sorry, I’ll get back to work.”

He looked across to see Light lean back, just as L cocked his head to one side. It was almost as if L were becoming more interested in Light, but they had been friends for some time now, hadn’t they? It would be weird if L only _just_ became interested in Light. Still, he appeared to gaze at the younger man in a way that was equal parts curiosity and admiration, although – he would never admit this – Matsuda always suspected L would look at Kira the same way, if he ever had the opportunity to safely confront and meet their culprit.

_‘- glowing. Can Light-kun explain?’_

_‘Can I explain why you saw a crisp packet glow? No, I honestly can’t. I suppose my closest explanation would be that the light from my lamp reflected on the inside of the packet, but that would be far too a simple explanation for you, wouldn’t it?’_

_‘Light-kun also stared very intently into the packet.’_

_‘Light-kun was very hungry, Ryuzaki.’_

_‘Light-kun is very sarcastic.’_

Matsuda gave a sigh and spun around in his chair a few times. The two of them looked so _tense_ that at any moment he half expected them to kiss or fight, but they merely glared at one another in a way that said they were playing a game far more important than the abandoned checkers board. L began to reset the pieces, whilst Light eventually leaned onto the side of the table with his elbow, before he cast a curiously indifferent gaze to his partner, who held onto the pieces in a way that made him seem distrustful of them.

“Do you think Light could have multiple personalities, like -?”

“I think you need to stop trying to label people,” said Aizawa. “Is it possible that there’s something wrong with them both? Probably. Does it interfere with their work? No. We need to ignore whatever they’re doing and get on with what _we’re_ doing, and – right now – what we’re doing is a whole lot of nothing! Here. You can look through these phone records of yesterday’s tip-line, see if any could have any relevance to our case.”

“Okay, I can get started on that right now. Hey – er – do you want any coffee?”

“I just got the -! Oh, forget it. Yeah, go get some coffee.”

“Thanks! I’ll be right back!”

It was pretty cold outside, but he was willing to brave it. There were a few vending machines outside that sold warm coffee, even a few convenience stores open twenty-four hours in the same street, but he was willing to walk a few blocks over to the coffee shop. There wasn’t much point in lingering in the office, not when they already knew all that they could know and would know, and he didn’t want to be the one to break up a fight between the two men. It was already late, but he couldn’t go home just yet.

He stood up and pulled on his jacket, whilst Aizawa began to massage his temples and gave a long sigh, and – as he stood – he could see L pouting in the far corner. Light folded his arms again, but this time he looked to his left at the computer monitor. The lights flickered, whilst an icon appeared to show that an email had been received, and yet the slight roll to Light’s eyes showed that he thought very little of the correspondence. Matsuda shook his head and grabbed his briefcase. He _hoped_ for emails each day, because going over and over these tedious pieces of paperwork was such a chore!

_‘- I do believe that I have already won.’_

_‘You haven’t won. You haven’t won because you can’t prove that I’m Kira, but you can’t prove that I’m Kira because I’m_ not _Kira! I swear that sometimes it’s easy to think that you’re not my friend at all . . . if you’ve won, prove it to me, Ryuzaki. Prove you’ve won.’_

_‘Well, I do have this.’_

Matsuda took a sip of coffee when he saw it. L lifted his arm so that the chain dangled and rattled, before he gave a pull and yanked Light forward, enough that he was made uncomfortable and yet not enough to pull him from his chair. Light gave a glare and pulled back, but the smirk never left L’s face, even when Matsuda reached the door and looked back one last time . . . the smirk never left his face. L spoke in a very low and quiet voice:

_'You provide me with a challenge, as an equal. What better friendship is there?'_

_‘One of trust and respect?’_ Light asked. _‘Do you even_ like _me as a person?’_

_‘Do you even respect me as a person?’_

L gave a dangerous smirk.

_‘Checkmate.’_


End file.
